


Try to Catch the Sun

by Guntz



Series: Whips & Fangs [1]
Category: Castlevania (Cartoon), Castlevania (Netflix), Castlevania (TV), 悪魔城ドラキュラ | Castlevania Series
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Different First Meeting, Alucard is not Impressed with Asshole Trevor, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Asshole Trevor, Attempted Sexual Assault, Canon-Typical Violence, Drama & Romance, Enemies to Fenemies to Lovers, F/M, Female Alucard - Freeform, Half-Vampires, Historical Inaccuracy, Jealousy, Love Triangles, Medical Inaccuracies, Miscommunication, Period-Typical Sexism, Self-Insert, Sypha is so Done, Vampire Politics, Vampire Sex
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-07
Updated: 2018-11-11
Packaged: 2019-08-09 06:23:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,636
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16444499
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Guntz/pseuds/Guntz
Summary: "What a horrible night to have a curse."Yeah, no kidding.(Self-Insert Fem!Alucard)





	1. A Tune

**Author's Note:**

> Remember a Day - Pink Floyd

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's something so small, no purpose but to create a noise to fill the silence that surrounds. Eventually, when there is a rhythm, that small something grows.

"What are you reading, love?"

I almost broke some flasks in my haste to pretend I wasn't going through some of her books.

Mother stood by the door with her hands to her hips, a single brow slowly rising as she continued to stare me down. I slumped again the chair I was sitting in, looking more like a guilty puppy who had been caught doing something naughty. With a small huff of fondness, mother strode in the large room until she was leaning over me to clear several of the flasks away so they wouldn't break in case I got caught by surprise again.

"Don't break these, Adrianna," mother warned me gently. "They're important."

"For the medicine," I said. "I know. I'm sorry mother, I'll be careful with your things."

Mother's warm fingers brushed against my baby fat cheeks, the fair-haired woman smiling in appreciation at my understanding. I closed my eyes from the feeling of her lips pressing at the temple of my head before she pulled away to pull in a nearby stool so she could sit beside me.

"You like to read these books," mother observed the little pile I gathered. "Couldn't find anymore fairy-tale books from your father's library?"

Father's library was much to vast to cover! It probably would've taken me hundreds of years to read all of his collections, and another hundred to learn every language written in order to understand them.

"I—" my irises flicked towards the books on the desk table. "I was just looking."

"You're not in trouble, my dearest." mother assured me as she pulled one of the books closer, reading the title: human anatomy. "I'm only surprised your interested in reading books about medicine."

Well, that's because I used to be a doctor, mother dearest.

...

I should probably explain myself.

Before I was four-year-old AdriannaFahrenheit Țepeș, I was thirty-three-year old Dr. Candace Larsson. Eleven years of studying my ass off in university hospitals, working longs hours that coffee became part of your bloodstream and sleep had no meaning in a doctor/nurse's vocabulary, all that I've been taught from both the text book and personal experience, went down the drain the moment I died.

And what a pathetic death, too, might I mention. I had been out on a date with a gorgeous university professor, the both of us spending some time having fun at a local carnival until we were accosted by his ex. She was pleading for him to reconsider while bawling like a child which created a scene for all the strangers to look and gawk at; and to my shock, my date was actually _considering_ it! Offended that I was pushed aside so easily without at least being talked to, humiliated by the people watching us, hurt that I was someone who he used as a distraction, and angry that I wasted my time for the likes of that asshole, I tried to storm off.

Key word: _tried_.

Too lost in the anger and hurt, I didn't notice the danger of a falling billboard coming down. There had been no time to feel the surprise, the fear, only the brief pain that quickly led me into the darkness of death's cold embrace. 

When I had next awoken, I found myself in the arms of a strange woman. At first I was frightened, confused on where I was and who I was alone with, but more than that, I was caught off guard of the wails of an infant—wails that came from my own mouth! Coming to in a stranger's arms, too weak and small to move, creating foreign sounds that couldn't possibly form words besides cries of helplessness, the entire situation brought more tears of frustration and fear than understanding.

It took awhile for me to adjust to the shocking ordeal that I had died and been reborn as an infant. I had to start my life all over again from scratch. 

It was hard. Times were incredibly trying because I sometimes fought my new mother rather than made it easy for her, but she persevered and I had to accept that she was going to be part of my life whether I liked it or not. It was difficult to try and learn the new language (Eastern Europe if I had to guess), but I had months of spending time with my new mother to eventually catch the gist of the words.

Like the world always had done in the face of great change: it continued to spin on.

And then there came the day I first met my father who had been away after my birth.

He returned without warning, announcing his presence where I could hear with surprisingly clarity my mother running to greet him. I could hear their voices, the love in their tones as they probably embraced one another. Soon footsteps came to the nursery, light heels (mother) followed my heavy boots (father). A sense of apprehension overcame me, like something dreadful was about to fall upon me.

The first person I saw was mother, her fair hair pulled back in a bun as she greeted me with a smile.

Next to her was something that made my heart stop.

Looming behind her was a great shadow, eyes burning like fire as he looked down at my tiny form sitting trapped inside their cradle. His complexion was deathly pale and his hair black as the void of space itself. There was something alien about him, his appearance humanoid... but _not_. As if he was carved out of stone, the perfect image of a man but something above that. He was so huge, easily towering over my mother and myself, and I felt like I could easily become crushed if he so wished with a simple squeeze of his palms.

Not only that...

There was something eerily familiar about him, something that beckoned me from the back of my head as I took in his features and dark attire. I knew who he was, I knew him my head seemed to scream... but where? 

They must've sensed my unease, my palpable fear, because then the pale man reached for me. I whimpered, unable to even cry instinctively like I usually did when I was expressing frustration and sorrow for my troublesome circumstances. I was so hilariously tiny in his large hands, and scrunched my face closed like I was a death row inmate about to face a firing squad.

A low murmur came, my face pressed against fabric and leather, and I inhaled the scent as tears flowed down my chubby cheeks. Fingers brushed through my wisps of hair, his voice pressed against the crown of my head, and it was slow and quiet that it became like a rhythmic tune. Slowly, my fear gradually dissolved the longer his voice carried on, his fingers protectively wrapped around my tiny frame that my folded form loosened little by little.

There was still something strange and somewhat off about my new father, but my mother trusted him and that was all I could go on with. I still had some reservations about the great big man, but for now I would tolerate him until I myself could judge that he truly meant no harm to me.

Days, weeks, months, years.

Seasons came and went.

The night hovered over the sky before the sun chased it away.

A cycle repeating forever and ever.

My new life was bizarre, but it was something I had to live with.

I had to accept that I was reborn in an era where the Church was driven by religious zealots full of superstition and suspicion of everyone and everything they presumed to be in league with the Devil. Science was often mistaken as witchcraft and black magic, leading to some pretty heavy persecution followed by execution. The general population was ruled with an iron fist, told to live in fear of God's wrath should they not believe enough, should they not offer tribute and faith, should they stray from the path of righteousness. It was an era most barbaric in my honest opinion. I had seen a couple of historical documentaries to know that the Church took advantage of the people, controlling them while erasing any progress other ordinary citizens tried to make for the sake of human society.

My previous view on religion had been agnostic at best, but after my rebirth, I was a little lost on what to believe when it came to questioning what happened to one's soul when the subject of the afterlife came up. My second life was proof that something big was at work behind the scenes, and I often times found myself wondering about my own existence late in the night.

Anyway, I had turned four when things took a turn for the even more stranger.

Father was taking me and mother to his castle.

"You have a castle?" 

Father raised a single brow at me. It was kind of funny to see him mimic mother's gestures as if she was a living guide book on how to treat and raise children.

Luckily for them, I wasn't prone to giving tantrums or crying or whining for whatever reason, but I'll admit that I was guilty for being a little shit to my parents when I was in the mood (much to their dismay). If only the 15th century had invented cameras, I would've captured the image of my parents' expressions when one night over supper, I  _ ~~innocently~~_ broached the subject on where babies came from. Father gathered himself from the table then promptly fled from the house after gravely commending mother's courage in facing me with this burdensome task I had laid at their feet. Mother could only gape after her husband when she was left alone with me.

By then, I had finished my supper and politely excused myself from the table with an innocent smile pointed at my mother who sputtered from behind me as I headed back to my room. Since then, my parents became wary of me. They probably wondered where my boldness had come from and could only assume that the fault lied on the villagers who must've unknowingly spoken inappropriate subjects in my presence whenever I would wander around the sleepy little village.

Therefore...

"Yes, I do in fact have a castle. Are you surprised?"

I turned to mother. "I thought papa was some homeless man you let in the house sometimes because you were angry he goes out a lot."

They both stared at me.

"Who told you such lies?!" father demanded once he gathered his wits.

"My dearest, why would you think that?" mother gently inquired.

"Papa is always going out when it's dark, and I heard from mama's patients that their husbands would go out to the taverns late in the night. Sometimes the men get kicked out of their homes because their wives are tired of them going out so much. Is that why mama kicks you out? Because papa goes out to the taverns so much?"

Father's face was fucking priceless.

A poorly stifled snort escaped from mother, and the tall man whirled around on her, hissing like an angry cat, "This is _exactly_ why we should've raised Adrianna at the castle, Lisa! These humans are putting these ridiculous false notions inside her head!"

It was weird how sometimes father called people "humans", as if they were a species he was not part of. Though, given his pale skin, ruby eyes, abnormally sharp teeth, and pointed ears, there was no denying that he indeed stuck out from the rest of the normal-looking peasants in the sleepy little village of Lupu.

Mother continued to laugh, turning away from father who scowled at her back before he turned towards me. It took everything in me to keep a straight face, eyelashes fluttering innocently at the giant who's shadow engulfed me so easily.

"Never repeat such vulgar things you hear foolish people say outside this home," father glared down at me. "Do I make myself clear?"

Feeling incredibly intimidated and threatened by his burning red eyes, I nodded my head submissively. Quickly realizing his error when he saw me trying to shrink into myself at the power of his smoldering glare, father ceased his Eye of Sauron imitation and crouched down until he was almost at eye level with me. Gathering me into his arms, he murmured a quiet apology in my ears while running his fingers through my long, wavy hair.

And that was how we packed up belongings to move into a great castle that was located in a deserted land no one dared enter, locals from rural villages whispering in hushed and God-fearing tones that it was the birthplace of devils and black magic.

When I saw the castle, all I could think was,  _'This looks familiar.'_

Where had I seen such a colossal castle?

First father, and sometimes the odd vibes I picked up from mother on random occasions, and then this!

Just what the fuck was going on? A question that continued to elude me since the day I was (re)born.

Mother and father bantered back and forth as they led the way towards the imposing castle. The Gothic structure looked so out of place in the middle of nowhere, but then I remembered Disney's Beauty and the Beast movie and that place was really in the neck of the woods where it was surrounded by man-eating wolves. 

We reached the entrance, and father playfully bowed his head while giving a dramatic arm sweep, permitting mother and I to go ahead.

"Ladies first."

"I'm not a lady." I told him.

Father huffed in amusement. "Forgive me, my little prințesă."

"I'm not that either." 

"Then what are you?" mother asked.

"I'm obviously the queen."

The two adults shared a glance, eyes full of mirth.

"And why not a prințesă?"

"Because queens can do whatever they want." I replied in a snooty manner. Head tilted back so that my nose was pointed in the air, I walk past my speechless parents once again and pressed my hand against the door to open it.

It didn't budge.

I pressed harder.

It still wouldn't open.

"Don't worry," I said to my parents. " _I got this_."

Then I began to press my whole body against the damn door, determined to get it open without having to eat my own words. Little grunts of frustration escaped me as I continued to struggle against the door, but the bloody thing wouldn't open and just as I was about to let some of my frustrations out by kicking it, it finally gave in with a groan.

"See? I had it under control." I chirped at the pair then slipped through the cracks of the large entrance.

I flushed a little in embarrassment, knowing the two adults were probably sharing a knowing look behind my back. Father was probably giving mother a conspiratorial wink.

I was staring up at the high arches of the ceiling. The whole place was gloomy-looking, the moon's illumination being the only thing to put a light on our surroundings. I looked at the ground to find a giant red carpet rolled out. The black marble floor looked to have been deprived of dust and dirt as if there was actually a house service of cleaners keeping the entire establishment squeaky clean.

Despite that, something in the back of my mind continued to pull and tug, begging me to see there was something about this that gave me waves of familiarity. I should know this place, I've seen this place, just like my parents. But still the answer continued to evade my grasping fingers.

"Come along Adrianna," father walked past me. "Let's get you settled in."

"I feel like I've been here before." I murmured.

Father paused.

"You were born in this castle."

I looked to mother.

"We had a room ready for you before you came along in this world, my dearest."

"Why didn't I grow up here?" I asked. "Why did we live in the house?"

Mother pursed her lips.

"You became ill shortly after you were born. We had to move elsewhere until you were strong enough." I opened my mouth to demand more clarification, but father intercepted me. "We will tell you when you are older, Adrianna. For now, let's get you and your mother settled in the castle's suites."

Knowing it was a subject that wouldn't be broached until I was of a certain age, I obediently fell quiet and continued to follow the taller man deeper inside the castle. We moved past the long entrance hall, climbing a staircase which led deeper into the longer hallway. Once I reached the top stair, I startled in surprise when the dark space sparked to life. Lanterns lit up on each side of the large pillars, providing more light that continued to flicker on in the distance.

"It's alright, Adrianna." I heard mother say from behind me. Her hands reached for me. "Don't be frightened, love."

But I wasn't frightened.

I was actually shocked.

Those weren't lights from the oil and fire everyone usually preferred to use when trying to shed some light in a dark place.

This was—

"Electricity," father spoke from ahead of me and mother. "An energy source made up of charged particles which can provide power to whatever machinations I have within this structure; in this case, electricity to create artificial light."

A spotlight flickered to life, illuminating an enormously tall chair that was placed between two stairs. Father climbed until he was at the same level as the chair, turning towards me with his red eyes watching as mother and I followed him.

Pieces of information began to come together as they slowly filled in the blanks that have been empty for years. Father's alien appearance and nightly disappearances when the sun was down, mother's growing collection and knowledge of things the era had yet to discover, and the people who feared evil spirits and monsters as if it was more than a spiritual entity to judge them of their faith in God...

This place, these people, and—

(Someone had brought a game console with them to use for games and network streaming of television shows and movies. I remembered one of the girls being a big video game nerd, hogging the television to play some old classic games. Bored and wanting a break from my studies, me and my other friends gathered around the couch at the dark of night to watch her play. The gamer girl loved horror games, loved how her audience gasped and shrieked when something horrifying popped up on the screen, or when they cheered for her to get past the level without dying. But the games I remembered her playing the most was about some whip-wielding figure that ran around a castle killing monsters. It was a popular series I've heard in passing in my youth, following me into adulthood—)

"Adrianna?" I started at the sound of his voice.

Vlad Dracula Țepeș, Lord of the Vampires and Master of Darkness, my father, my _papa_.

"Adrianna?" I blinked, seeing the room begin to spin. "Love, are you alright?"

"I'm tired." I murmured pathetically, hunching a little forward, probably about to tip over and fall flat on my face because of the overload of information forcing itself inside my head. Images and memories still fresh even after years of playing along with this new place I've woken up to.

(Various characters running inside the castle, whipping, slashing, climbing, bleeding their way through its haunted halls until they found who was waiting for them at the very end of their long, arduous journey—)

Two massive hands grabbed me by under my arms and easily pulled me in the air where my head slumped against their chest. Fingers, _claws_ , comb through my wavy locks, his deep voice murmuring sweet nothings while mother's voice began to fade in the background.

I could see it happening right behind my eyes. The story so massive, it stretched itself across time with the blood remaining and the destiny constantly unveiling eternal darkness every century.

(There was so many games, so many hours watching characters fighting, so many stories yet always leading to one destination: fighting off the forces of Dracula—)

"Sleep," I heard the blood-sucking monster coo gently next to my suddenly keen ears. "Go to sleep."

I closed my eyes.

* * *

The change wasn't as sudden as a siren going off in the middle of a quiet library, but it was noticed all the same by the two adults.

No longer running around under their heels, asking inappropriate questions to send them in a tizzy, or being a general menace to their daily lives, I often slipped away in my own company and hid myself in the libraries. There really wasn't much to do but read books as any other source of entertainment wouldn't be invented for the next hundreds of years. And the revelation was still too fresh in my mind to return to my worried parents' side.

And how could I regard them as my parents now that I was aware of who, and most importantly, _what_ they are?

How could I have been so stupidly blind this entire time? All the signs pointed to my sire being something not human! He was the legendary monster I heard stories about and seen in movies, creeping in the night to lure his innocent victims close so he could feast on their warm red elixir. He had an endless supply of food, cementing that he would keep living on even as the world around him continued to change. 

The woman, the poor stupid woman who embraced him and vowed an unbreakable oath of love when she married him, would become the doomed figure that unintentionally kick-started the entire battle over the course of centuries.

And my existence, my strange and out-of-place presence in this, would also be doomed to follow a similar path leading further into the darkness where loneliness would be my only companion.

"What troubles my little mistress?"

Poking my head from underneath the table I was hiding under inside the Long Library, there stood the Master Librarian Wiclef. Dressed in dark robes and a matching scholar's cap, his long white hair and tangled beard creating a great contrast between his pale appearance and his dark fabric. Master Wiclef haunted and coveted the books like a dragon guarding his hoard of gold, and I sometimes would find him accompanying Dracula's wife in search of medical and human anatomy books to help her better understand how the human body worked.

"I'm just... thinking," came my weak answer. "I have a lot of things to think about."

"Oh, I see." Master Wiclef nodded in understanding. "I suppose this thinking of yours often involves leaving your mother and father's side, yes? Leaving you to wander alone in the halls and keep hidden from your father's watchful eye?"

"... Yes."

"And I suppose this thinking of yours also includes missing play time with your mother? Even going to sleep early which means there would be no story time to help drift you off to peaceful slumber?"

"..."

Master Wiclef strode over to the table, and I shuffled aside so he could pull out a chair to take a seat in. It became quiet, or rather, it became a waiting game to see who would speak first. I let out a heavy sigh, my chin flopping down over my crossed arms. Good Lord, how in the world did I end up in this world? Why couldn't I have been reborn in a normal place where there was no such thing as Dracula and whip-wielding monster hunters?

"My father's a monster."

"Yes." Master Wiclef agreed.

I whipped my head up in surprise.

The old man raised a single bushy brow.

"I'm a monster." I said.

Thinking back, I thought it strange how the villagers treated me whenever mother and I walked about in the open to shop for food and supplies. Women would coo at me as I walked around clutching mother's skirt, but most others would stop and stare. They would always give the same remark to my mother: what a beautiful child. Too beautiful, according to them. One merchant went so far as to say I looked more like a porcelain doll than an actual girl child. It was from those encounters that mother would finish her shopping and briskly herd me straight back home.

"By half if you want to get technical," the Master Librarian blinked. "Can't forget it takes two to accomplish the task of creating an offspring, you know."

I scrunched my nose in disgust at the thought of my biological creators doing the frickle-frackle in order to produce me. I may have been a doctor in my previous lifetime, but even I sometimes get grossed out at the thought of something so personal bordering on intimate things regarding my parents' romantic love life. I swatted the old man's leather shoes, silently expressing my disgust.

Master Wiclef hunched forward, resting an arm on the table as he leaned until he thought he was close enough to share something for my ears only.

"I'll not lie, young mistress, your father indeed is a monster. He's done a great many terrible deeds long before you, your mother, and even I, have walked on this earth. Terrible things that would even break a powerful warrior from the mere sight of it." Master Wiclef paused, his cold blue irises seeming to stare off on a far away memory that only he could see. He broke out of his stupor when my tiny hands gently tugged at his robes. "But... Ever since your mother walked in through the castle's front door, demanding audience with your father so that she could learn to become a doctor while offering to guide him in the world of mortal men, he's..."

The old man released a small huff.

"He's changed."

In my mind, all I could see was the image of a viscous creature hiding behind a man's face, how little he cared about humanity and its innocent souls caught in his slaughtering. He was a myth, a legend, a pixelated figure I saw on the screen when the gamer girl faced him on the final round. It was fun at first, but now that I was living within the same space as him, standing in reaching range where he would eventually unleash unspeakable horrors that Master Wiclef spoke of, I had scampered off from his side and deep in the bowels of his castle.

But there was something more to the Count than his ferocious reputation.

Because all I could see was the papa who ran away from when I asked about babies, who made faces when I said ridiculous things like lobsters being the mermaids to scorpions, who brought me new dresses when I began to grow out of my old ones, and who showed me his constellation books where we would view them through a telescope on the roof of our house.

How could the monster Dracula be the same person as my papa?

My head slumped in my arms again.

The next time I raised my head, it was many hours later. To my surprise, I was being carried out of the Long Library by the Count himself, my smaller body easily held up by a single arm which kept me pressed close to his broad shoulders.

There was a pause.

I kept my eyes on his dark goatee, not daring to climb higher where his red orbs would stare into my very soul. Was I afraid? Was I too shocked to feel anything? I sat in his arms in utter silence.

A soft exhale of his breath brushed against my skin, making a few blond strands tickle my nose that I couldn't help myself in wiggling the tip to rid the ticklish sensation. There was a soft chuckle that I felt reverberate from his chest, and I watched as his claws reached for my face—tucking the hair behind my ears.

"Do you know what the humans call me, little one?"

I played with the buttons of his cloak, tracing the intricately detailed items.

"Devil. Monster. Vampire."

A single large hand reached up and took a hold of my tinier appendages.

"Murderer."

I swallowed heavily.

"Which is why I'll do everything within my power to ensure you'll never become the person I am," a sharp finger lifted my chin up so I could look the Count in the eyes. "You may have been created by a monster, but you'll never have to be one yourself."

His eyes looked so soft, so gentle, nothing like what I had seen in the games where they flared like angry fire.

His words were like a balm, healing me from the inner turmoil I felt from the revelation of where I was and who I was with. I still had some doubts and worries, and I still thought about the monster I used to watch on the screen during game night, but this creature—no, this man was nothing like what I thought he was. All this time, he had been nothing but a good father to me, even when I pestered him and tested his patience now and then, he did right with me and my mother.

Unlike most fathers who left their daughters to be tended to by the wives, Dracula made an effort to be involved with my upbringing, teaching me how to read books and speak other languages while indulging me in my little whims (provided that it was appropriate, of course).

This Dracula wasn't like the Dracula I had seen in my previous life. This Dracula was kind, he was nurturing and loving, he cared about what I had to say no matter how silly it was, took the time to explain things when I had trouble understanding them, would read stories to me as I was tucked into bed, all these actions which pretty much earned him a five stars and a plaque on the wall as "Father of the Year".

"I'm a monster." 

This wasn't a question. I knew yet I wanted to hear the words. I needed to hear it because while I was a new person living a new life, I was also living as somebody who I had heard and seen, as well. Only this time, that person was born a girl instead of a boy.

"Yes," father answered honestly. "You have the blood of the vampire running in your veins... but also have your mother's blood."

"I'm a monster and a human."

Adrianna Fahrenheit Țepeș

"Remember these words, my dearest: you are who you choose to be, not what you're born to do."

My head slumped against his chin.

"... Can you teach me to be a doctor like mama?"

"You'll have to ask your mother." Dracula hummed.

So I was reborn as Alucard, the dhamphir child of Dracula as his human wife, but it didn't have to be like that. The story wasn't entirely well known to me as I was only an observer of the background when my friends played their Castelvania games, but I was going to make damn sure my mother wouldn't fall victim to whatever disaster resulted in her death, I was going to make it so Dracula wouldn't lose his sanity, and I was going to work my ass off in relearning how to be a doctor with the tools I had in this castle because like hell I was going to let my talents be wasted!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a rewrite. Man, was I blown away with the second season! Now we gotta wait another year for the third (#RescueHector2K19).


	2. Humming

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The muse that has purpose is slow and steady, giving time to create new tunes to add along with its rhythm.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Be prepared for the fluffs!

So, the easy part was writing down all that I knew pertaining to how one would treat injuries.

The difficult part was trying to find the right tools to make it happen.

This wasn't the era where medicine was going through a revolutionary discovery that changed the world, this was a place where people demanded miracles from God and the church preached about spiritual healing for someone to actually recover from whatever ailment was keeping them bedridden. People had no clue about how keeping clean would result in lesser chances of catching harmful germs and diseases, especially when it came to the concern of exposed flesh wounds. And then there was the issue of treatment of the most complicated kind: performing clean surgeries.

Let's be honest, you were more likely to die bleeding out, or live long enough to suffer through a fever, than be treated safely by a seasoned physician (at least with the right tools, the amputation process would be hell of a lot less painful and completely sanitary).

The whole affair felt like I was back in medical school, except there wasn't any available computers to help me narrow down my research. Books were the only things I could rely on to get anything done, and so began my most busiest months of searching for the right texts while absorbing medieval medicine. Thank God Master Wiclef was there to offer his assistance, otherwise my search would have ended within a day because I was absolutely clueless at where to start.

Honestly, my father really needed to cut back in making the Long Library, well, _long_. 

When Master Wiclef wasn't available (father had other duties he needed the Master Librarian to attend to), mother would be the one who picked up the slack. She was both parts stunned and impressed of how thorough I was in my research. Our talks even created opportunities for me to give her a nudge closer in the direction of modern knowledge on medicine. Mold being the key to concocting antibiotic medicines, chemical drugs that could induce numbness to the body (or at least some part of the body) to perform surgery which reducing the patients' pain receptors, emphasizing the importance of keeping clean when practicing medicine or handling a sickly patient, and other basic issues so forth.

"You truly are your father's daughter, my love," mother once remarked to me when I showered her the notes I've gathered so far. "Barely five years old and already you're starting to talk like him."

I was deeply concerned about how my intelligence would be received by the pair, afraid that they would find it unbelievable for a girl who was coming out of toddlerhood to suddenly spout high vocabulary words or to take rapt interest in the study of medicine that someone beyond my age would only begin to understand. I tried to keep it contained, but sometimes my eagerness to get things done quickly would overcome the caution I tried and failed to exercise when in the presence of my family and the castle attendants. However, my fears were unfounded, because while I did get the occasional surprised looks from the adults, they quickly morphed into pride. 

Father was especially most pleased with my development since he believed this would erase the tasteless influence I've gained from spending so much time with uneducated population back in mother's village.

I had dared to roll my eyes at my father.

"Then maybe you ought to find people who aren't so tasteless. Besides, I'm pretty sure there's plenty of people out there who are just as clever and brilliant as mother."

"Oh? And you know of these clever and brilliant people?" Dracula quirked his lips in amusement.

With all of us gathered in father's parlor room where the fire cracked from the wood dumped inside the burning embers, I was content to stand and pace around the small room while mother and father sat near each other. Mother had brought tea, toast, and blackberry jam to munch on.

"Let me see," I pretended to ponder. "What was that philosopher's name? That Greek man who founded an academy and went on to write these brilliant ideas and innovations for his society? _Hmmm_... The one man who wanted to establish schools for the public that didn't solely benefit the powerful and wealthy; let's not forget that he also mentioned women would be included."

This time, the imposing man was the one to roll his eyes at me.

"Or what about that up and coming painter back in Italy? You know, the one who's also dabbling in things like research on the human anatomy? Leo-something..." 

How absolutely amazing was it to one day realize that you were living in the same era as the man who not only painted the Mona Lisa (along with several other famous paintings), but invented mobile war machine that resembled the modern day tank, and drew sketches of the infamous flying machines (blue pints which the Wright Brothers got their hands on centuries later to invent a machine that would inspire man to conquer the skies)!

I so badly wanted to meet him, probably ask him a few questions that I could write down in my journals to later pass to the hands of museums who were curious about the mysterious man's lifestyle.

Mother gave father a side-eye glance. "She's not wrong, you know."

Dracula appeared as though he was concentrating all his efforts in not huffing indignantly like some entitled brat that was being ganged up by other knot-it-all's,

"My Lord," Master Wiclef appeared at the entrance of father's parlor room. "There's a message for you."

Before any of the adults could say anything, I perked up at my spot and blurted, "We get messages here?"

I could not for the life of me imagine someone being brave (or stupid) enough to approach the menacing-looking structure that was the stuff of nightmares for the simple task of delivering a few measly envelopes at the castle's massive front door! The very idea of it was just absolutely absurd! Did we even have a mailbox?!

Master Wiclef looked like he was going to explode from how hard he strained to keep himself from laughing out loud in the presence of his Dark Lord; mother on the other hand held no such reservations. The fair-haired woman threw her head back and laughed out loud, a hand falling over her chest as if to help restrain herself.

Father gave me a look that promised that he was going to have some _words_ with me. I winced, that's probably what I deserved for making fun of him in front of his subjects who scurried around somewhere in the background of the Gothic establishment. One time I had dropped a bottle of milk by mistake, and father assured me that someone would come by to clean it up. Sure enough, by next morning the mess was gone and the kitchen was spotless.

I was beginning to think maybe the inanimate objects of the castle were alive.

Hell, I had seen first hand flying books that flapped their covers like bird wings inside the Long Library!

"I'll be there shortly." Master Wiclef bowed and disappeared after father dismissed him.

"Are you leaving again?" mother asked once her laughing fit calmed down. "I know I said you should travel around a bit, but it's become a bit excessive..."

"I know, but hopefully I won't be gone long this time." Dracula clasped his hand over mother's. "I've been looking for someone that I've heard rumors about. I'm hoping to recruit them."

And suddenly mother's happy mood turned somber.

Mother gave father a look which I couldn't describe, but it must have been something important because the next thing I know, mother turned to me and said, "Go on to Master Wiclef, Adrianna. I left a few books for you to read through. I'll join you in a moment."

Now I was intrigued. But I knew from mother's no nonsense demeanor that she won't be swayed with my pleading to remain with them, so with a whole lot or reluctance, I bid as I was told and left the two adults to speak. I thought about pretending to stick around to hear the conversation through the door thanks to my keen hearing, but father would know and would order me to get going.

Maybe Master Wiclef would know what father was up to...

* * *

"Necromancers...?!"

I gawked after the old man as I trailed closely behind him. He was in the middle of working, organizing books while collecting a few my mother had asked for our lessons. Right now, I was talking to mother about creating a tiny glass bottle with a needle—otherwise commonly known as the syringe. Mother was fascinated with the idea that she even wanted to drag father into the discussion. Father was pretty good at inventing things (he made a stethoscope and a centrifuge).

"Lord Dracula has heard of them through tales, gossips, and whispers. He's hoping to find the necromancers and perhaps have them willingly enter into his services."

"Um, okay," I run around the taller man so I could face him but walk backwards to keep from getting in his way. "But why?"

"Your Lord father would not say."

"Is he making you keep quiet about it?" I questioned him, eyes narrowing in suspicion.

Master Wiclef only gave me a blank look. Okay, that was rude of me to imply he was some shady character (even though he kind of was considering who he was in service to), so I decided to leave the old man be rather than poking and prodding him for answers.

"One day I'm going to yank the secrets out of that great beard of yours!" I threatened the Master Librarian playfully before running off towards the exit of the Long Library.

I was due for another day of wreaking havoc upon the castle residents anyway.

The castle was huge, by the way, and it took quite awhile to explore most of the places I had access to, but there was plenty of rooms I was forbidden from entering. Even without the watchful eye of a parent, the doors remained locked and would not budge even if I pushed against it with all my might. It was probably one of those barrier things that father must've put up to prevent me from entering certain places of the castle that no child ought to be exploring.

It either had to be a dungeon or torture room... or maybe both. This was Dracula's castle, after all.

Or perhaps a lair where his demons and other creatures of the night slept.

Giving the door a wary look, I backed off and continued my search for something knew because I truly needed a distraction from all the reading, studying, discussions, and relearning. I really missed my television in boring times like these.

Knowing how badly being cooped up inside the castle was getting to me now that I could no longer head out into the village to cause a little stir, mother decided it was time to put a halt on our studying and instead gather food to fill inside a wick basket, grab a blanket, then lead me outside the castle entrance. The only time I've ever been outside since after stepping into the castle a year ago was whenever we had to cross a bridge to reach another part of the Gothic structure.

Now that I was standing outside where the sun was high and warm, where there was a forest full of life, a meadow swaying under the gentle breeze of the wind, a coiled river somewhere a little ways off from the area, and a vast mountain range to spy in the distance, I felt everything coming undone. Free to run around (while taking care to keep in mother's line of sight), I began to explore the new grounds as I pleased. I didn't get much time to view it all since my entire family had been traveling during the night to reach Dracula's castle.

I felt my inner child bouncing with joy and excitement. Memories from before came flooding back as I hopped on a fallen tree and balanced myself on it, times where I had gone on hiking trips with my family as we walked along the canyons or followed the path of a park. It made me wish marshmallow was invented so that way I could take mother out, build a little campfire, and the both of us could munch on some s'mores together while spinning tales to entertain ourselves with.

Though mother said she liked listening to my tales because they were the most interesting. Well, that's what happens when you remember the plot of hundreds of movies you've come across in your previous lifetime.

Almost three months after father's departure, he returned to the castle.

With guests.

Once the news reached my ears, I had raced down the hall towards father's parlor room. While he was off looking for creepy old men who could raise corpses like an 80's movie horror flick, I was poking my nose through a few books about instruments when I was hit with the idea of inventing the piano. The large instruments wouldn't be invented until the early 18th century, but since this was a couple hundred years back, why wait? If Dracula could make a stethoscope and centrifuge, then he can make me a piano I could play with! 

Yes, I was being a spoiled child, but if anyone wanted to deal with a bored five-year-old child, then they better have lots of patience with my pestering. If not, then they had better help in creating something that could keep me occupied.

Anyway, just as I took a sharp turn around the corner, I collided against something that sent me tumbling forward. Instead of face planting on the floor, I cushioned by whatever I had crashed into.

" _Ow_..."

Startled by the new voice, I picked my head up to find a boy with wavy pale hair and royal blue eyes staring back at me. I immediately hop to my feet while the boy scrambled backwards to get away from me until his back crashed into some legs.

Another boy was there as well.

He appeared to be of African or Islamic descent. My eyes were drawn to the dotted marks around one of his eyes and the scars that nearly circled his bald head.

The two boys looked to be around the beginning stage of their teen years given how much they easily towered over me. It was a bit unnerving how we all stood there and looked at one another as if we were expecting an attack or something. The boy with the strange pale hair finally managed to climb to his feet, his eyes still tracking me for any sudden moves as if I was an animal prepared to rip his throat open (well, he wasn't entirely wrong with that seeing as my fangs were starting to grow).

Deciding to break the ice, I offered the strangers a polite bow.

"Hello, I apologize for startling you both." I said. "I had no idea anyone would be in the halls."

The youngest of the teens remained tight lipped while the other darker boy returned a polite nod of his own. "There is no need. We are the strangers blocking your path."

"Still, I am sorry about that. My mother and father warned me not to run around corners."

"Your mother and father...?" the pale-haired boy finally spoke up, his brows scrunching in confusion.

Before I could say anymore or explain my presence to them, movement from down the long hallway caught my eye. Approaching us was Master Wiclef and father. Father still had his traveling cloak on, his rucksack hanging over one side of his shoulder that said he just barely arrived to the castle and had yet to find his shared suit with mother. Back then, I sometimes wouldn't be able to see family for months due to university and eventually because I was swamped with work at the hospital, but I did keep in touch with them through phonecalls, text messages, and Facebook updates on what everyone was doing with their own lives until we got together for the holidays.

But in this century, you either had to get messages that would take months to arrive, or wait for your loved ones to return.

It was kind of agonizing to see father come and go, and I could tell mother was especially sad to see her husband go, but most of the times it was for the best (or so she said).

What was more shocking was how eager I was to see him again, how my heart raced with joy, how I felt my body brim with excited energy like a sleep-deprived student drinking a can of Monster to feel the rush at the mere news of my father returning home. He was the most fearsome creature that ever walked the earth and yet to me, in the time I've known and been raised in his care, he was just my daddy.

"Papa!"

Zooming past the startled duo, I only had to whip my arms open and jump before I was caught by the giant man and pressed flush against him. I nuzzled against the collar of his neck, taking in his scent and curling my arms around his neck to keep him close. God, I missed him so much! His hands brushed against my braided hair, and I smiled at the feel of his lips brushing against my forehead and cheek.

"I hope you haven't been causing trouble while I was away." Dracula smirked as he pulled me a little so we could face each other.

"The castle has yet to collapse in on itself, so that's a good day in my book." Master Wiclef sarcastically retorted, rolling his aged eyes at me when I fluttered my eyelashes innocently towards him.

"You little hellion." Dracula chuckled.

It was then his eyes moved past me to spy something over my shoulder. Looking back, it was the two boys, and instead of standing at the corner of the hall, they approached us but stopped at a respectful distance. The dark boy had his arms clasped behind his back while the younger one stood there like he was a student about to be led inside the principal's office. Father shifted me until I was being held up by one arm while leaning against his one side.

"Adrianna, these are going to be our guests," father gestured to the dark boy. "This is Isaac."

And then he turned to the pale-haired boy.

"And this is Hector."

I blinked.

Isaac and Hector...?

As in, the two Devil Forgemasters Isaac and Hector?

Memories of a silver-haired man running around in a castle killing various monster flashed across my head, and my eyes wandered over to the skittish pale-haired boy who kept his head bowed so not to meet anyone's gazes. Isaac however, looked back without a hint of fear, his facial expression conveying how calm and in control he was of himself. The dark boy looked nothing like the redhead I used to watched on the screen, dressed like some sort of male stripper with his leather pants and naked torso covered in tattoos.

I was placed back on the floor, and once my feet touched the ground, the two boys bowed their heads to me. Isaac confident with his gesture while Hector followed his companion's lead. It was a bit sad to see how obviously scared the pale-haired boy was, but hopefully with time that would change. For now, I had to hold back and behave myself in order not to further drive a wedge between me and the two teens.

I grabbed the edges of my skirt and returned the gesture, giving them a curtsy.

"Adrianna Țepeș." I introduced myself. "Welcome to my father's castle."


End file.
